Page 57 of Wicked Obsession

Ryder leaned over her so he could meet her gaze head on. “If I don’t press, you’ll think you can get by with your polite lies. I fuck—freaking hate that shit. You can be honest with me. You can be yourself with me, don’t you get that? You’re not going to start a war if you tell me to go to hell when I piss you off.”

“Telling you I’m fine isn’t some polite lie—it’s because I don’t like being weak.”

“You don’t always need to be strong.”

“Yes, I do. When you’re weak, you’re a potential victim.” She shut her mouth, but not quickly enough. Damn it, he’d have questions now.

The expression on Ryder’s face made her tense. “Fuck. The bodyguard.”

How did he know about that? She started to ask, but Langley realized she was too tired for this. She sank back against the pillows and took a deep breath. “I don’t have the energy for this conversation.”

For an instant, he appeared startled, and then chagrin took its place. Ryder scowled and studied her again. “Let me get the nurse. You look like you’re hurting.”

Langley grabbed his hand before he could reach across her for the call button. “Oh, no you don’t,” she scolded. “It took me too long to convince the doctor to ease up on the painkillers. You’re not walking in here and undoing the work I did.”

“You want to be in pain?”

“It’s discomfort, not pain.” Strong discomfort. “And I want a clear head.”

Scowling, he dropped down in the chair next to the bed. “Because you always have to be in control of yourself.”

It was tempting to mention that wasn’t true, that she had no self-command when they made love, but decided that was a direction she didn’t want to go. “Something you should understand completely, since you’re exactly the same way.”Instead of pursuing that topic, Langley changed the subject. “Where’s Finn?”

If anything, Ryder’s frown deepened. “He and Griff headed back to the estate to get a shower and catch some sleep. They’ll be by to see you in the morning.”

For a moment, she remained quiet. “So it was Mako then.” She couldn’t use his first name any longer, not when he’d betrayed her, betrayed Ryder.

“Yeah.” There was no emotion on his face andhehad the nerve to tellhershe always had to be in control. Before she could do some pushing of her own, Ryder added. “Griff shot him before Mako could shoot me and then tried to save him. He didn’t make it.”

Langley processed that. “It’s going to be difficult for Jonah to deal with killing his best friend. How’s he doing?”

Ryder shrugged. “He isn’t saying much right now, but the feds kept the three of us separated most of the past twenty-four hours, so I don’t really know where his head’s at.” For an instant, he seemed far away, then he blinked and refocused on her. “You heard the FBI arrested the person who hired the hit squad, right?”

“Dad called Mom this morning and she passed along the news, but she didn’t get anydetails. Do you know why someone wanted me dead? Is it a person Dad knows?”

“Your father didn’t have much time to talk to her considering that he was trying to keep our asses out of jail right then.” One side of Ryder’s mouth quirked up briefly, but the amusement didn’t last long. “And no, it wasn’t anyone your family knows. It turns out that while your father was ambassador to Puerto Jardin, some college kid was arrested for trying to smuggle artifacts out of the country. He was tried, convicted, and thrown in prison.”

She considered that. “It’s been suspected for a while that the Puerto Jardinese government is financing their civil war by systematically selling their own antiquities on the shadow market. Perhaps they didn’t like anyone encroaching on their territory.”

“Maybe,” he said, “but the kid died in custody and his mother blamed your father for not playing the get-out-of-jail-free card.”

She huffed out a sharp breath. “As if he could. Puerto Jardin isn’t known for their leniency.”

“I know,” Ryder said. “From what the feds shared, the kid was guilty as hell, too. It appears he traveled there solely to be a mule for the artifacts.”

“The country isn’t exactly a vacation destination,” Langley said dryly. It hadn’t been evenbefore the civil war started. Not with the drug cartels and the arms dealing and the poverty that encouraged looting of historic sites.

“The bottom line is that his mother decided that since she lost a child, the ambassador should lose his child as well. You. It took her a while to finance this gig and even longer to figure out how to hire it out, but here we are.”

“Here we are,” Langley echoed and shifted against the pillows. “One wounded, eight dead.”

“Revenge is ugly,” Ryder said. “And she planned to make it uglier. When Harper missed you with that bullet in San Diego, the mother decided she wanted to torture you herself before having you killed. She thought it would make her feel better.” He shook his head.

Quiet settled between them, but Langley didn’t have enough energy to consider what kind of woman would torture an innocent person out of revenge. Perhaps she didn’t want to think about it.

They stayed silent, but she didn’t feel like making small talk to ease the awkwardness. It shouldn’t be like this between them. Sitting without speaking should be companionable. As the silence lengthened, it became more uncomfortable and she wished her mom would return and smooth things out. If he had more to say, why didn’t he say it?

Belatedly, she realized she hadn’t shown her appreciation. Could that be why he wasn’t heading back to the cabin to catch his own shower? “Thank you,” she said, and it was genuine despite her wanting him to go. “I appreciate everything you did to keep me safe.”

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